Mementos was a disorienting mess as always, and of course master detective Akechi Goro had gotten lost in it going off on his own. Akira couldn’t wait to find him in one piece so he could stop worrying and chew him the hell out.
Traitor or not, he was part of the team for now, and the point was staying together.
So when he rounded the corner and saw that familiar white, Akira exhaled and forced himself to sped up. ‘Cause Goro was on his knees next to the wall and looked like he was in a fight and needed some help.
That’d teach him, at least.
Hurrying closer, though, Akira realised it wasn't a fight at all. Goro had been - caught. He was being … held.
Not in a prison, but far more literally. Akira’s guts twisted strangely at the sight of the - tentacles? there really was no better word for it - twisting around his body.
He was held on his knees, the white of his suit starkly bright between the grip of deep indigo splaying him like this. It was - obscene. For a moment, all Akira could do was stare at the way Goro's arms were held apart, his back arched. Like an offering.
“Hang on,” Akira gasped, unable to tear his gaze away from the hypnotic slide of them around Goro’s thighs, his slim hips - his throat.
He gulped. “Crow?”
Akira had to get a grip.
Slowly, Goro’s eyes moved, and only now did Akira realise his mask had been ripped away, leaving his expression out in the open.
Akira had never seen him like that before. His lips were half-opened, panting softly, his cheeks so flushed even the bridge of his nose was red. He looked feverish, especially his eyes. They were glazed over, and Goro seemed so dazed Akira could barely make out a spark of recognition when Goro faced him.
No, he realised with a jolt. It was simply that every mask Goro wore so meticulously had fallen away, leaving nothing but a smudged truth in his eyes as they looked up at him, making Akira’s gut twist strangely again, the sweetest sting of pain.
Goro had to know it, too, because he shifted slightly and made a small, broken noise as he did not manage to move. Only closed his eyes, hid his jagged edges away again, and Akira wished he hadn’t. This chasm between them was impossible to be bridged, but if Goro’s eyes could look this way, so open, so honest, so soft, then maybe -
It was idiotic. Ridiculous.
A broken, guttural noise escaped Goro, so animalistic it jarred Akira from his strange reverie and hopes he’d better discard. This - thing - must have drugged Goro, or something, and Akira had no time to be standing there simply watching when Goro was so obviously in trouble.
Was he hurt? Akira stumbled over, dagger out to cut and slash through the appendages, but for that he needed to see first where to start, how not to hurt him further. The tentacles seemed to ooze from the wall, and there were more and more coiling around Goro, wrapping around his stomach, binding his thighs.
In horror, Akira watched as the one around his throat snaked further, nudging its tip between Goro’s lips.
Watched as Goro didn’t struggle, only accepted it.
Akira couldn’t look away at how deep it sank, how easily. How pink Goro’s lips were as they stretched around its girth.
This is bad.
“I’ll save you - just hang on -” He sidestepped, taking in the enemy - attention snatched and caught by something else. It hadn’t been visible so far, but he -
The tentacles had yanked Goro’s pants down, just enough to expose his ass. Just enough to -
Akira inhaled sharply, unable to tear his gaze away. Squeezed between the fabric of his perfectly white pants and the coils of tentacles, Goro’s ass looked ridiculously round and perfect. Utterly obscene, with the slick press of too many coils inside him, all moving lazily at their own pace, some back, some sinking deeper.
Akira had watched a lot of huge dicks sink into asses in porn, but this was -
How was Goro even still -
As if prodded by his gaze, a thin tendril rose, pressing between the tangle of thick ones inside Goro, squeezing out of sight - but the aim was clear. Akira could hear the exact moment it hit true, because Goro’s whole body jerked weakly in his restraints, and he gave a deep, guttural cry around the tentacle in his mouth, his throat.
Akira had no idea how deep these things went. What should he do?
Something. But all he felt was the bulge in his pants, shameful, but undeniable. There was something about his biggest rival, the man who conspired against him, would try to kill him, strung up and offered and filled. Devoured.
And gasping softly as he enjoyed himself, as he let himself be put on the spot like this.
I have to help him.
Akira startled when instead, he felt a tendril sneak around his ankle. Its pressure was surprisingly heavy and insistent, and it oozed a strange warmth. He tried to step away, but it coiled around his bare skin and when he looked down he could see its slithering bulge slipping beneath the fabric of his pants.
Akira gulped, the sight making his mouth run dry. His eyes darted up to Goro, kneeling and keening, completely at the mercy of these things, and Akira’s heart jolted with the ecstasy of fear and anticipation.
He tried to step back with more vigour, but it tightened, keeping him in place. A second wrapped around his other ankle, a third around his wrist.
They did not hurt him, but showed no shyness in binding him. Keeping him, right here, all while the first one coiled further up his shin, caressed his knee. Akira’s own mouth fell open, his breath shuddering from him, and his eyes darted back up to Goro again.
And still the warm caress of that tendril snaked along his own skin, making him shiver. Somehow it felt way lewder beneath the fabric than if his legs had been bare, and he couldn't help but stare with a thundering heart at the bulge snaking closer up.
What if the others find us like this? See us like this?
If only the thought wouldn't make him shiver, and as if urged on by the kick of his heart and nerves, the tip of the tentacle brushed the inside of his thigh, getting so dangerously close to where he was throbbing and aching -
Akira’s dagger clattered to the ground and he told himself there was nothing he could’ve done as he was brought to his knees.
Overpowered by a monster.
It was still in sight - that writhing mess Goro was stretched around. Akira’s pants grew damp at the thought of meeting the same fate, right next to him. That they would be forced to witness each other without defenses, at their most vulnerable, mindless and lost in shameful pleasure. He shouldn’t be so aroused by this, so endlessly turned on.
But the tentacles were thick and warm and way too proficient for their own good, and the first wrapped around his leaking cock, curled and squeezed so good that Akira threw his head back and moaned, hips thrusting helplessly against the grip on them.
The next had snuck up his other thigh, a slick tip prodding at his entrance, and he relaxed and gulped for breath, feeling like he was burning up. His own need ate him up from the inside out and he could feel the attention Goro - Crow - paid to him as Akira moaned at the first pressure of the tentacle against him.
So when it finally pressed inside, almost shyly, he made sure to let his voice ring even louder on purpose. It felt - overwhelming. He’d never been entered by anything that wasn’t himself, and Akira felt dizzy.
Each time it squeezed back into him, it went a little deeper, leaving him slicker than before. The hot friction left Akira shaking, his thoughts growing more tumbled. It was all sensation and emotion, and the coiling need inside him.
Deeper, deeper yet. He groaned, all he could wonder being how long it had taken Goro to become this loose and pliant. How long he’d been kneeling there, sighing and crying out, until the bliss had left him so soft.
The thought alone made him slicker in his pants. Akira was the worst. But it just felt so good.
This was perfect. Almost too much to bear. More, Akira wanted more -
The only thing he could still wish for was -
As if jarred by his thoughts, the tentacles lifted him. They coiled around his body, enveloped him, and carried him until he faced Goro again, who did not close his eyes this time.
They were burning, bright, alive. He was beautiful like this.
The tentacle slid from his lips, all slicked up, leaving Goro gasping and bowing his head, but the gaze from beneath his lashes was even worse for Akira’s state. It was so demure, and yet a challenge simmered in the air between them, unspoken.
The tentacles nudged him further, and Goro parted his lips even before Akira met them, their kiss slick and slow and deep.
A dream, Akira thought, even though his skin was on fire with too many sensations and he couldn't stop thrusting his hips helplessly, chasing the friction around his cock and the way he was being worked open,
And now, Akechi Goro’s taste, his languid tongue pressing against his.
He didn't struggle, didn't pretend. Goro hummed mindlessly, the sound growing higher the more he liked something, and Akira tried his best to focus on winding the most beautiful sounds from him, swallowing them down greedily.
It's out of our control, he told himself, even though the kiss was far from that. If the others find us like this it won't be our fault.
But when he yearned to cup Goro’s cheeks, he found his arm slipped free of their restraints, and he reached out effortlessly.
Goro's cheeks were burning hot and he made a small noise as he tilted his face into the touch. Akira pulled away only to admire the sight for a second, no matter how messy the situation. This felt terrifyingly real.
But before Goro could make another sound, Akira sank back into the kiss. They were helpless right now after all, were they not? Trapped with no other choice but to surrender to desire and emotion.
Why not indulge in that?
Akira was the first one back on his feet.
He liked to pretend it was willpower, but it was the fact that Goro had been way greedier than him about being fucked, and Akira had been more than satisfied with two thick tentacles and - well, Goro’s mouth on his cock. Someone liked to wrap his pretty lips around things.
“You alright?” he rasped, his voice wrecked by the past - how long had it even been … ?
The tentacles had left them sprawled close to each other, their outfits dishevelled, halfway stripped away. Akira laced his fingers with Goro’s, who made a soft noise and nothing much else, but he squeezed back.
“Let’s go home,” Akira said softly, and the words ached. He felt raw, vulnerable. “I’ll make you curry.”
He expected snark, or a scoff. Sniding words.
But Goro’s eyes met his, still without walls, without falsehood or pleasantry. “Okay,” he said softly, voice wrecked.
He didn’t protest when Akira took him into his arms, either, only curled against him and closed his eyes. Maybe there really was no point anymore, in pretending otherwise, when Akira had tasted himself on Goro’s tongue, when he knew what Goro looked like when -
“You’re enjoying this, huh,” Goro tried to say, but his voice was too raspy and soft to make it sound anything other than sweet. “You ‘n your … saviour complex.”
It was like Goro had forgotten how to bare his teeth, these last hours.
Akira winced at his general state as he began walking, trying to promise himself he’d be clean and leave behind most of the aches as soon as they would return. Just this way. No matter how uncomfortable.
But at least he got to lean his cheek against Goro’s hair. “Definitely,” he tried to drawl, but it was sleepy and equally soft.
If only it could always be this way.
“You’re the worst,” Goro whispered.
Akira grinned. “And you’re the greediest, honey.”
Goro lacked the strength to even raise a fist and knock it against his chest, and Akira at least had enough left to laugh at him for it.